


A Passing Memory

by Hawkflight



Series: The Gorgeous Rage [1]
Category: Claymore
Genre: Consensual, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Kissing, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, smut with plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 17:39:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3618462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkflight/pseuds/Hawkflight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can't give you the details, but I can confirm that this information is accurate." - Miria, volume 15</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Passing Memory

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by Beautiful Girl by Broken Iris (and volume 15, of course) Enjoy!

He rested his finger on the lip of the glass that had been set in front of him a few minutes ago. It was filled to the brim with deep red wine, reminding him of blood and it's own strong aroma. The rich exquisite taste that had yet to touch his lips for a month now, but he couldn't afford the Organization to send someone out to his locale at the moment. Even if it would be about as difficult to kill a group of Claymores as it was to squash an ant.

He was waiting for one of their own warriors already and he didn't intend on tipping her off to the fact that he was an Awakened Being. Rigaldo did hope that he wasn't going to have to wait much longer. Not after a resident of a village south from this one had told him about a Claymore coming here for information on the history of this land. Perhaps he shouldn't have posed as someone that knew of such information. Not that it was difficult to prove. He had lived long enough to have seen most of the history not to mention what he had been taught, and his memory of it all was perfect.

Besides, he was rather curious what a Claymore would want with this information. Most were just interested in their duties, only concerned with killing yoma that the Organization asked so  _kindly_  to be exterminated.

He sighed. His finger slipped down the side of the glass, curling around the base of the stem, watching the ripples go out in the glass from the small vibration. At least his chosen 'profession' - as the town's people would have it - was able to get him a private room at the local pub. No one would be able to hear in on the conversation or try and slip in and ask questions or even try and correct  _him_ on the facts. He needed to make a list of the people that had done that and kill them after the Claymore left. There had to be enough on that list now to make up for the meals he had missed.

Rigaldo raised the glass to his lips, tilting it so the liquid could spill into his mouth. It wasn't warm. Not like the liquid that burst forth from the humans, but it wasn't cold either. The wine had been out long enough to become close to room temperature. It was rich in it's own way, a bit sweet due to the grape used to make it, the hint of pepper along with the alcohol burned it's way down his throat. The tang from it stayed for some time, the pepper keeping his throat warm. He hadn't ordered it for the taste though. It was the darkest red wine they had in this town. The fact that it didn't make him want to throw up was a simple bonus. Once you awakened there wasn't much that could compare to the taste of human guts.

"Excuse me, sir." The door to his left had opened, the waitress stepped inside leaving a cloaked woman standing in the door way. "Your guest has arrived." At the waitress' gesture the woman stepped into the room, walking around the table to sit down in the seat across from him, hood still drawn up. "Would either of you like anything? Food? More drink?"

He could feel her eyes on the empty glass he had just set down barely a second ago. "I'll have another glass." He had been in here often enough for the staff to know which wine and what he meant by glass. "A slice of rare steak to go with it would be lovely." His gaze moved back to the woman then, the Claymore. She still hadn't uttered a single word. "What about you?"

"I'm not hungry."

So, she wanted to get straight down to business then? After all this time she had kept him waiting she could surely wait for a little while as well. "You made quite a trek to come all the way out here to see me. Surely you're the least bit fatigued?" Her head had raised slightly, not looking at the grains in the table anymore. It would appear she had gotten the hint. A normal human being wouldn't be able to cover the distance she had with the little provisions she carried, which were likely gone when she entered the town if she had thought to carry any at all.

Quite ironic really. As a Claymore one hardly had an appetite and when they awakened it felt like the hunger would never be satisfied no matter how much one ate. It's like it was compensating for that loss of hunger.

"I'll take a glass of wine and a bowl of fruit, if it's not too much trouble."

"Not at all." The waitress replied as she took the bottle from a table in the room, already pouring the lavish liquid into his glass. "What sort of wine would you like? We grow the grapes here and make the wine as well so I can vouch for the quality. As I'm sure this man here can as well." A soft laugh was released just after the words.

"I'll have the same as him, then."

"Excellent." The staff walked back to the table, pulling open a drawer to retrieve another glass, only filling this one partially before setting it down in front of the woman. "I'll be back with your food in a moment." After setting the bottle of wine on the table within it's bucket of ice the waitress retreated from the room, the door clicking softly behind her.

The woman lowered the hood covering her head a second later, her face no longer shrouded in shadows. Her hair fell inches below her shoulders, a light brown rather than the usual blonde he had become accustomed to seeing on a Claymore. The natural color must have been much darker for it to still hold some pigmentation. From her yoki she had been a Claymore for awhile though. If he had to guess it would still take years for it to change completely, perhaps a decade or two. Then there was her eyes...

"Ah." They were more striking than the silver. "If those pills you took didn't decrease your yoki abilities I would say you should use them more often. The natural color of your eyes is divine." He didn't think he had ever seen the color before. A pale green that was almost silver just around the pupil, a darker green wrapped around the iris.

"You know about the pills?" the woman asked, not sounding surprised though her yoki told him he had caught her off guard.

The corner of his lips turned up. "Of course. If I didn't know the simple facts about the largest organization on this continent I wouldn't be considered very good at my profession. Then you wouldn't have been directed to me."

"This continent? Do you mean there's more than just one?" Oh, she was sharp.

"Hmm." He wrapped his fingers back around the wine glass, lifting it so he could take a sip before lowering it back to the table. "Hasn't it ever struck you as odd how there's only one continent in this world? Not even an island has been found in the ocean when the ships do come back from their exploration voyages. As for when they don't come back; what stopped them? A storm? Or something else? Someone? Out of all the ships that have been sent out over the years less than half return. Storms don't occur that often on our own coasts. It doesn't make sense even when the remains of a ship do show up on our shores. It's obvious we aren't the only ones living on this world." He ran his finger over the lip of the glass, watching the ripples on the surface. If only he could have some real human guts, feel the blood run down his chin... "It should be more obvious that they aren't exactly peaceful. More than likely they take the provisions the ships carry, slaughter the crew or enslave them, and take the ship as their own," he kept his voice level as he spoke, getting his yoki back under control. Even with those pills if he didn't keep his own yoki suppressed she would sense it if he let it slip.

"Is there any other proof, besides the missing ships?" Of course, keeping her focused on the subject at hand would mean she wasn't looking for the yoki of a yoma, claymore, or otherwise.

"Not that I know of. Honestly it's more of a theory based on that fact. I have no wish to go and see if it's true or not myself. If they really are as violent as my tale makes them out to be I wouldn't get very far in that land." A lie, but someone of his 'chosen profession' really wouldn't know much about fighting since they would have dedicated their life to the study of history and it's secrets.

"You must have thought of some place where-" she stopped talking the moment the door swung open.

"I'm sorry for the delay," the waitress announced as she walked in with a tray in hand. The bowl of fruit was set down first, bursting with the colors within and nearly overflowing from the top with strawberries, kiwi, slices of tangerine, and more fruits hidden beneath. A cup of melted chocolate was set down next to the bowl before the waitress moved over to set down his own plate. The meat was still red, only the top and bottom having a change in color from when it got cooked. Though he rather liked the term heated much better. It hadn't really been cooked anyway.

"Thank you. Could you make sure me and my guest aren't disturbed?"

"Of course." The waitress set down the utensils before exiting the room once again. This time he could hear the staff put a notice on the handle of the door.

With the click of the door he turned back to the Claymore. "I didn't catch your name."

The woman was currently staring down at the bowl in front of her and he couldn't help but chuckle. To a human this would be a normal sized portion especially if they had been traveling on the road for as long as she had. Even so it had to be more than triple the amount she would normally eat in a week. A lot more.

"It's Miria." She had picked up her fork now and was looking at the fruits with interest. There was a sort-of shine to her eye as she stabbed a slice of kiwi with her fork, dipping it in the chocolate before eating it whole.

He had to wonder how food of all things could divert her attention from her reason for coming here in the first place. Perhaps... was it a memory from her past? Looking at her now that had to be it. Even her yoki was more relaxed and he doubted if he did something as foolish as letting his own yoki spike up that she would notice it at all. She seemed almost lost in the past. Some part of her life before becoming a Claymore.

What could it be?

Rigaldo was tempted to ask, but asking too many personal questions meant she would surely ask him some in return and he couldn't answer a single one. Not truthfully anyway.

Still, seeing her like that; eyes a glow, almost looking... human. "Sister Crina."

"Huh?"

She was looking at him, eyes no longer unfocused and he gave a soft shake of his head. "Nothing." His human life had been over a long time ago and there was no reason to think of it now. "Are you enjoying the food?"

Her posture changed so quickly that he almost wished he hadn't asked. Those eyes were back on the table, he could barely see the hue from beneath her lashes. She had turned slightly, as if not wanting to face whatever memory it had dredged up. If she hadn't come here for a reason so important that she would go to such lengths to not be spotted by the Organization he suspected she would have bolted from the room. "My village. It used to throw festivals and if you got a piece of fruit from the tables they had been arranged so that it always had something sweet on it. They were throwing one after the harvest when yoma swarmed the village. Before it was over each piece of fruit was covered in blood. The streets, the buildings, all covered in crimson. When the sun came up the yoma were gone, vanished like smoke."

Just like her village. Gone in a single night, probably just a few hours. It was no wonder why the color of her eyes currently glimmered in the light, holding in tears at the edge.

Evidently the yoma hadn't found her or she would have been dead with the rest of them. They wouldn't have seen the tears of hers that must have been falling at the time. Each drop of the liquid tainting those eyes of hers. Given to the Organization in exchange for the uniform silver of all Claymores. Lost to pain all too common in this world. Only ever to be seen because of those tiny pills.

What a waste. "There's a village to the southwest untouched by the Organization. They've never sent a request for a Claymore in all the years I've known of it. The village is in the mountains, hidden in the trees where no yoma treads. It's never known of the creatures."

Her head practically snapped up, those eyes of hers trained on him. "They don't know about the yoma?"

"No," he said, taking another sip from his glass, eyes keeping contact with hers the whole time. Rigaldo couldn't make himself look away, not when they would be gone when the effect of the pills wore off. Not when the hope that sparkled within them was caused by his own words.

"But yoma have been here for centuries. They infested the land long ago. How could there be any village that has never dealt with them? That hasn't had to call on the Organization for help? After all these years one must have found the village, and once it's been found by one yoma more follow. Maybe not all at once like..." The green of her eyes dimmed before she spoke again, "The probability is just too low. Every other town, village, city has dealt with yoma, right? There's no way-"

"There is." He couldn't stand the thought of those eyes going hazy again. "It may just be plain luck, but the village is there. I've seen it myself. There's no yoma. The people there go about their daily lives with no fear of them. When one dies it's from a natural cause like a disease or an accident during a hunt."

"Still, to not know about yoma... It sounds like a fairy tale."

He sighed softly. "If you don't believe me then go there when you get the chance. You snuck away from the Organization to meet me here. I'm sure you can do it again to confirm the village's existence. Now, I still haven't gotten the chance to ask you why you snuck out here in the first place. Surely the Organization would wish for you to know more about the land where one such as yourself hunts yoma?" Her body tensed and the moment her head started to turn he reached across the table to grab her chin. To keep her lovely eyes on his. "You can tell me. I don't care for them much myself."

She was silent for a time then muttered a single word, a name, "Hilda." He waited for her to explain further. "We were close friends within the Organization. We trained together, passed their final test to become Claymores and be assigned to a territory. I killed her, without even knowing it was her until it was too late. Much too late."

"She Awakened, then?" At the ripple in her yoki he merely grinned at her. "I'm not like the common sheep. I know what happens to a Claymore if they don't die in battle."

Her eyes lowered. "Yes, she Awakened. Her black card never reached me. I know she sent it because... a fellow warrior had gotten it instead." There was a spark of anger in his eyes, a spike in her yoki before it quelled back down, before she was meeting his gaze again. "I didn't come here because of the black card though. I came because she died and... I want to tear the Organization up from it's roots. Destroy it for what it did to me and all the Claymores before. For using and then disposing us like that."

His brow arched. He certainly hadn't expected that. "A noble goal. Why would you need someone like me?"

"The Organization doesn't have much on it's own history. At least, it's not easily accessed. I was hoping you would know more about it, but... what you told me about that village is more interesting if it's true."

"It's true," he replied, letting go of her chin now, his fingers wrapping back around the stem of his glass. He looked into the dark liquid, wondering if there was anything else he knew that might help her in this quest of hers. It would be interesting to see if she could actually do the task.

"Thank you for the information," she said as she stood up and he could only blink when she inclined her head toward him in farewell. "And for your interesting theory. I'll have to look into it myself. If there is another continent on this planet it might shed some light on the Organization."

She was leaving? "You haven't even finished your meal," he said, wishing she would sit back down.

Her gaze moved over his own untouched dinner. Damn. He should have at least taken a bite like she had after ordering something so he wouldn't arouse her suspicions. The last thing he needed was a Claymore on guard mode in this village. He was about to explain that he wasn't too hungry at the moment, still full from the large breakfast they had served him here when she spoke, "I have to be in another village that's having yoma problems soon or the Organization will wonder what is taking me so long." Her eyes slipped to the bowl of fruit. "I suppose I could take it with me though."

That wasn't what he had wanted to hear. "You'll enjoy it more if you sit down and take your time. It's been awhile, hasn't it?" At her hesitation he relaxed once more.

She reached out for the cup next to the bowl, picking it up to drain it of the rich chocolate much like the men in the tavern would down a shot after a day of working in the fields. "Thank you for your hospitality, but I must go now." The clink of the glass on the table practically finalized the words this time.

"Miria." He got up from the chair, following her to the door and reaching out before her hand could rest on the doorknob. He gripped her chin firmly with his fingers, turning her face towards him to drink in the sight of those eyes once more.

Eyes that had once known joy when she was younger, when she was human. Until the people here started calling her a Silver-Eyed Witch the moment she took yoma flesh into herself. That natural color would be gone soon and he likely wouldn't see it again even if he did chance upon her. It would be back to silver.

She couldn't leave yet. He had to make her stay. The only question was how... If he was still a human something as simple as this would surely come more easily to him.  _Wait._  Human. There was so many things he had wished he had done before he Awakened, but that wouldn't stop him from doing them now. Nothing could.

Yes, a little taste would do just fine.

He stepped closer, matching her step back for another one forward, simply nudging her closer to the wall with his own movements. When her back hit the stone he leaned forward to brush his lips against hers. His fingers slipped down her chin, tracing the curve of her jaw before his hand settled on her shoulder, fingers wrapping around the side of her neck. The feel of her heart beating beneath the skin spurred him on.

Rigaldo ran his tongue over her lips, light as a feather. "Let me in, Miria," he murmured against her cheek before pressing his lips back to hers. Each touch was soft, never pushing insistently on the flesh. Never probing past her lips with his tongue, no matter how tempting it was.

When her lips parted he grinned, pressing his lips to hers, tongue delving into her mouth to wrestle with her own for a moment before slipping back out. He kissed her once, twice, three times before pulling away, his head dipping down to press his lips to her neck.

A moan slipped from her as he dragged his teeth over the skin, nipping at every vein he came across. He reached down with his other hand, fingers curling around the dark fabric and drawing it up until it was bunched around her waist. With a soft sigh his hand slipped further down, tugging the thin garment that clung to her waist down her legs just enough so he could sink a finger into her without it getting in the way.

She was warm around the single digit inside of her, smooth, and - he groaned at the realization - wet. He slipped another finger inside of her heat, raising his head to claim her lips once again before pumping the fingers inside of her.

Rigaldo kept the pace slow, gasping when her body clenched around the pair of fingers as if asking for him to go faster. After the tenth time he relented, pounding his fingers inside her until the muscles fluttered around them and he could feel her body tremble next to his.

He let up on her mouth, watching as she gasped for air, chest heaving. There was little drops of sweat glimmering on her throat and he was quick to gather each one on his tongue. It wasn't the taste he was looking for though.

He let go of her neck, lowering himself down the length of her body. "No," the gasp above him made him stop just as his jaw was parallel to her waist. "You don't-" She had begun but he ended the sentence well enough in his own head. The scar. She didn't want him to see it.

Rigaldo leaned forward to press his lips against the fabric that clung to her stomach before she could get the chance to finish. "I know, Miria. There's no need to try and hide it, stop worrying. I won't remove your shirt."

He pressed his lips to her again, just an inch lower than before aware that her fast breathing was slowing above him. "I... What's your name?" She didn't really sound like she was asking, it was as if the request was more of an after thought.

He didn't even entertain the thought of telling her the answer, not his real name or what he was sometimes referred as. "It's not important," he said, moving further down after finishing his trail of kisses on her clothed stomach.

It was then Rigaldo removed his fingers from her, licking the white substance from the pair before leaning forward to run his tongue up her vulva, flicking her clit with the tip of his tongue. He moved away a moment later after hearing her moan at his action. Instead he drew his fingers through the curls that surrounded her opening, seeking out the spots of white and licking them up, tongue parting her lower lips in his quest.

Sweet. That's what it was. Each drop was a tasty treat and he felt a slight pinch of disappointment when he couldn't find anymore on her skin.

His tongue delved into her, tracing the curves of her inner walls to keep imprinted in his mind. When he had touched everywhere he could reach he gave one last sweep of his tongue before pulling back to focus on her clit instead. As he flicked the little bud with his tongue he pushed three fingers into her.

It took a moment for him to get a rhythm down but when he did his fingers were pounding into her hard and fast. His tongue circling her clit, barely touching except for when he drew his teeth over the bud to hear a strangled moan a moment later.

Her hand in his hair only made him become increasingly rough with her.

He slipped a fourth finger into her, a groan escaping him when she bucked against his mouth. Rigaldo enclosed his lips around her clitoris sucking on the sweet little bud until she came with a sharp yell. He dipped his head down, lapping up her release.

With the taste of her still on his lips Rigaldo looked up.

Her head was tilted back and he could just see a glimmer of her eyes from where he was. There was a dark tinge to her cheeks and she was back to breathing hard and fast, chest rising and falling quickly as she sucked in the air into her body.

He was on the verge of getting up; pressing his mouth to her neck, taking her into his arms as her body became still once more, to pierce the skin with his teeth, nails, anything that would leave a mark when the door opened.

"I just wanted to check that-I-umm..." The waitress stood in the doorway stuttering, eyes wide, mouth moving but not making a sound as the seconds ticked by.

The combined sound of the door and staff must have brought Miria back to the present, much more quickly than he would have wanted. She was smoothing her outfit back down over her body, the fabric falling back over her thighs. Her fingers gripping the garment still wrapped around her legs and tugging it back up to her waist, making her clothes rise so she had to smooth it down again. Miria hadn't said a word, but from the darker color of her cheeks she was likely as embarrassed as the waitress.

He followed her movements with his eyes, watching as Miria walked to the door, the waitress stumbling back out of her way to pass into the bar. She would be out of the building soon though, too soon. His gaze landed on the waitress the moment that he couldn't see the Claymore anymore.

"I-s-sorry." The waitress backed out of the room quickly, giving an awkward apology bow and closing the door behind her.

Perhaps he should add the waitress to the list of snacks he would be having before leaving the town.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really tempted to do a multi-chap with an alternate universe based around this event. If you would like for the story to continue please comment (though i'll take a kudos as a default 'yes' either way).


End file.
